


Chaos Theory

by dsa_archivist, EA Karras (Anne)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series: Mountie Slayer Arc 2, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-31
Updated: 2000-08-31
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/EA%20Karras
Summary: A visit to Wyrmville.Fire VampiresReturn to Hell. The Prison oneThis story is a sequel to Lesser Evil.





	Chaos Theory

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Title: "Chaos Theory"
    Author: EA Karras and Magnes
    email:,
    website: http://mountieslayer.tripod.com
    Rating: R
    Series: Mountie Slayer Arc 2. Comes after "Lesser Evil"
    Notes: Two more to go. Then we hit Arc 3. Otherwise known as The Big
    One. Woo!! 
    
    -
    
    Reflexively, Ray turned on the radio and glanced at Fraser sheepishly.
    He was actually shocked when music started playing. He'd actually gotten
    a station. The sounds of Led Zeppelin filled the car. "Ok. Tell me that's
    not weird." 
    
    "Maybe stray radio signa-" Fraser started.
    
    Suddenly the song ended and a voice came on. "You're listening to Free
    98.666, coming to you direct from the end of the world. I'm Joe D and
    our call letters are WYRM, big shocker there, eh folks? In nomine vermis,
    and all that crap. Word around is the reality bubble around the Windy
    City's starting to pop. Can't say as I know it's true, but we'll keep
    ya posted. I'm taking requests at 555-9897, so just sit back, relax and
    watch the shit fly. And remember, watch out for the border patrol." 
    
    Music filled the car again, and Ray pulled over.
    
    Fraser watched him pull out his cell phone and curiously asked: "What're
    you doing?" 
    
    "Acting on a hunch."
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull sat lotus style in front of Wyrm. He had no idea how long he
    had been down here. Several hours at least. Maybe longer. Maybe days.
    He had no sense of time. It was a strain to keep his eyes closed so long.
    
    "You outside think this is all some sort of bad thing. That the world's
    gone to ruin," Wyrm continued. "You are right, Son of Rachel. For most
    of you, it has. And you are safe, by the way. You can open your eyes.
    You won't look upon me." 
    
    "What are you saying?" His voice was hoarse from the acrid smoke of brimstone.
    When he opened his eyes, he was sitting on the floor of a Gothic chapel
    with stained glass windows all around him. There was no door and the
    windows showed scenes from the adventures he'd shared with the Knights
    and the Slayers. The rose window was Wyrm himself. 
    
    "I give them what they want. What they wish for. And bring them here."
    Wyrm's tail hit one of the stained glass windows and Turnbull looked
    over, squinting at the light pouring into the chapel. 
    
    And gasped.
    
    People.
    
    Cars.
    
    Life.
    
    Dear God.
    
    ***
    
    Tom lay in the hospital bed, trying to be as still as possible. Every
    movement seemed to bring discomfort to every inch of his body. He felt
    sick to his stomach. "James..." A cool hand touched his face. Thank god
    for him, his love, his patience... 
    
    "What is it? What's wrong?" Calhoun pressed his lips against Tom's forehead
    gently. Clearly he was ready to do the least thing Tom wanted. This was
    the third time he had been with Tom through his deliveries and each one
    had been difficult, but Calhoun had never been more afraid than now.
    
    Tom shook his head. "My back hurts. A lot. James..."
    
    "Shh. I know..." James slipped his arm around Tom's back, helping him
    sit up, then hefting him to his feet. The Moloch groaned in protest.
    "Come on... The doctor said it would help. One foot in front of the other."
    
    "I know how to walk!" Tom snapped, tightening his grip on James' shoulders.
    He winced. "I'm sorry." 
    
    "I know."
    
    "Love you..."
    
    "Love you too." He felt Tom stop walking. "What is it?"
    
    "Dizzy." Tom stumbled. "Really dizzy..."
    
    ***
    
    "You've reached Free 98 WYRM, can I take your request?"
    
    "Where are you?" Ray demanded.
    
    "Excuse me?"
    
    "Where are you located?"
    
    A pause. "This is a joke, right?"
    
    "Humor me."
    
    "We're at 23 West Dhole, building 3..."
    
    Ray hung up. Ok. What the hell was that...?
    
    He looked at Aja, then the book. "Frase?"
    
    "Yes, Ray?"
    
    "Take the book. Go across the road."
    
    Fraser complied, looking confused. Ray turned the radio up. Static. He
    motioned for Fraser to come closer. Slowly the music came back. 
    
    "Oh dear."
    
    Ray was concerned as well, but he tried to look on what he hoped was
    the bright side. "Dis might be good, Frase. Think he meant it with that
    border patrol?" 
    
    Fraser ran a hand through his hair and smoothed an eyebrow. "I think
    he did. The DJ, Joe, doesn't know we're here. Why would he make it up?"
    
    "Well...Wyrm."
    
    "Ray, right now, Wyrm may be the lesser of the evils. At least with him,
    there was a balance of sorts." 
    
    Ray rubbed his face, tired, holding the back of his neck. "Maybe I should
    touch it again. The dead book thing. We might get some answers." 
    
    "I'd rather your father try the cards first."
    
    "Yeah, me too."
    
    ***
    
    "What is this? Is this where Adolph sent Ray? Is this Hell?"
    
    "Hell is not of my making, though I have power there. This is in the
    book. This is of my making, at the behest of those that would call upon
    me." 
    
    "I don't understand." Turnbull climbed onto the window seat and jumped
    to the grass below. He stood in a small garden on the chapel grounds.
    Before him was a busy, sunny, populated city.  What Chicago should have
    been, perhaps. 
    
    "You will. For now, the Seer is in need."
    
    "Wyrm!"  He looked back into the chapel. "You wanted Ray to kill Tom,
    now you're helping him.  Why?" 
    
    "I wanted Prince Kowalski to bend to my will. I have great need of him,
    as does D'Hoffryn. A willing pawn is far more useful than an unwilling
    one." 
    
    "Will you explain?" begged the Seeker.
    
    "In time. You may find me here, Son of Rachel. Now go to your ally. Here
    is your guide." 
    
    And Adolph, sitting immobile on the chapel like a gargoyle, swooped down
    at Turnbull.
    
    ***
    
    Tom was relieved that it was only hypertension. Hemorrhaging wasn't something
    you wanted to do more than once. If even that. He felt James' clutch
    his hand tighter and sighed. "I want to go home..." 
    
    "I know..."
    
    "Adam's probably worried sick."
    
    "If he doesn't think we're dead...well, you, anyway. I can only be more
    dead." Calhoun stroked Tom's brow gently. He wondered if the doctors
    had lied to Tom. He looked bad. The pain was getting worse. 
    
    "Aren't we optimis..." Suddenly Tom gaped, a sudden spasm of pain going
    through his stomach. He felt the hand on his face again. The spasms got
    worse, he was breathing hard. 
    
    "Tom? What's wrong? Tom..."
    
    "Talk to me. What are you going to name her?"
    
    "Thomas. After you."
    
    He tried not to laugh at the suggestion. "You can't name her that!" 
    
    "Why the hell not?  Hey, Tom Cat, my mother wanted to name /me/ Florence
    after her father." 
    
    The notion of the prudest badass on the planet being named Florence was
    almost too much for Grissom to bear and he struggled to laugh and control
    the pain at the same time. 
    
    "Some nineteenth century asshole decided it was a boy's name and my mother
    bought into it." 
    
    "What did your father want to name you?" whispered Tom.
    
    Calhoun made a face. "Carnelian."
    
    "What was wrong with your parents?" Tom almost wept.
    
    "I think they didn't get enough vitamin B in their formative years. Father
    Donovan saved me from their ideas of names." 
    
    "So what will you call her?"
    
    Calhoun smiled fondly, lovingly. "Nikko."
    
    "Sounds Greek."
    
    "Japanese. It means 'cat'."
    
    ***
    
    Aja opened the deck of cards and stared. More new cards. Self Destruction,
    and...obedience. The light kept popping up, as well as Savage Fury, The
    Sacrifice and The Soldier and The Seeker. He bit his lower lip. "Ray...perhaps
    you should try the book..." 
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull followed the flying demon, closely. He kept up easily, despite
    Adolph's speed. Then he heard it. 
    
    Ray's voice coming from a car radio.  He paled, and turned towards the
    sound. He felt Adolph land beside him. "What is that?" 
    
    Adolph rolled his eyes.  "My father's latest pet..."
    
    Turnbull leaned close, listening to the familiar voices.
    
    "I'm not touching it. You pick it up."
    
    "I can't. You have to."
    
    "God, you are such a liar!"
    
    "I am not, you..."
    
    "Well, that's enough sound bite of the vamp known as Prince. I'm Joe
    D and we know what the D's for and if you can't figure it out, listen
    for a few more minutes. I've been told we've got some new blood here
    in Wyrmville and to make our young rebels feel at home, I'm sending out
    'Welcome to the Jungle' to Tommy, Renny, and Jimmy boy." 
    
    ***
    
    Ray took a deep breath, then another. He cast a nervous look at Fraser
    then touched the cover. 
    
    It was alive.
    
    And so were they...
    
    He snatched his hand back.
    
    "They're alive," he gasped, looking at Fraser. "They're in the book...but
    they're alive..." 
    
    Fraser took the book, staring at it. "Must be a tad crowded..."
    
    "No...I saw...I saw a city."
    
    "A city." Fraser blinked, laying the book on the hood of the car next
    to Aja. "In the book. Are you sure?" 
    
    Ray nodded, sitting in the driver's seat, but facing outward. On impulse,
    he leaned back, wincing as his still-tender ear brushed the seat and
    he turned up the radio just in time to catch the tail end of the welcome
    message. 
    
    "Oh dear."
    
    "Uh huh."
    
    ***
    
    Tom grimaced, staring at his feet. The pain was getting very bad, and
    James had gone to find a doctor. He threw himself back against the pillow,
    watching the ceiling spin. Trying not to scream. 
    
    It didn't work.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun looked up from the nurse's station as a hand touched his shoulder.
    Surprise turned to relief when he saw red serge. "Turnbull. I've been
    wondering where you've been..." 
    
    Turnbull smiled, thinly. "Where is he? Take me to him."
    
    Calhoun nodded and started to walk forward.
    
    Then they heard the scream and ran.
    
    ***
    
    "Joe D again, gang, and apparently we're about to herald into our new
    world the first child of Wyrmville. Yippee ki-yay. Here's 'Born to be
    Wild' for the soon to be Nikko Calhoun." 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser looked up from the steering wheel, slowing down as a man in black
    approached the car. Border patrol. As the man got closer, he saw that
    his eyes were...glowing. 
    
    Did they work for D'Hoffren or Wyrm?
    
    He didn't care. Without a moment's thought, he hit the accelerator. Hard.
    
    "Fraser!" Ray jerked awake.
    
    "It seems prudent...It is after all, an unguarded border."
    
    Ray twisted to check on Aja and Dief and to see if they'd ditched the
    border goons. 
    
    "What the hell was that all about?"
    
    "They didn't appear entirely human," said Fraser, trying to keep his
    voice under control. 
    
    "No kidding. Gotta be the water."
    
    ***
    
    Ray Vecchio climbed the steps to his home with a heavy heart. It all
    looked so hopeless. Two super-demons using the world for their personal
    battle ground, his friends dead or scattered, the future so uncertain.
    He was frightened. Frightened for his son, for his wife, for what may
    come at the hands of D'Hoffryn. Wyrm may be evil incarnate, but at least
    he didn't hide behind false civilities. 
    
    Stella was here. So were Cassie and Daniel, working together to take
    care of their families that were united by more than sharing a roof.
    
    He heard laughter. Cassie and Maria. It sounded so good. Frannie and
    Harding would be by later for dinner. He knew the conversation would
    inevitably drift to the dilemma of D'Hoffryn, and so these moments were
    all the more precious. 
    
    Stella pushed open the door, carrying their son, smiling down at him.
    Ray felt an ache, a warmth, a feeling of hope as he finally stood before
    her and gazed at his son. 
    
    They would make it. He had a son and he was determined to watch him grow
    into a man. 
    
    "How's everyone doing?"
    
    "Quite well, given the circumstances." Stella paused. "Two things..."
    
    He knew he wasn't going to like this. "What?"
    
    "I brought Xander and Anya with me."
    
    "Oh God...and the second..."
    
    She blushed. "I haven't been able to tell Cassandra about her father...could
    you?" 
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun burst into the hospital room and stared in shock. Tom was lying
    on the bed, in considerable pain. He tore at the sheets, gasping in air
    for another scream. Turnbull snapped out of his shock first and hit the
    call button. 
    
    "Tom? Tom, what is it? What hurts?" Calhoun asked, feeling quite useless.
    He sat next to Tom, grabbing one of his hands. Tom's fingers automatically
    dug into the vampire's skin. 
    
    "Everything! Oh...God!" Tom's head tilted back, and he fought to bite
    back another scream. "Make it stop, James. Oh God...please..." 
    
    "Shh..." He smoothed back Tom's hair. "The doctor's on the way. Calm
    down..." 
    
    ***
    
    "We've got a request from the big W himself, tonight gang. Seems Captain
    Slime's got a taste for the hard rock tonight. Here's 'Son of a Bitch
    to the Core,' by yours truly..." 
    
    Fraser glanced at the radio. "He's a tad...enthusiastic, isn't he?" 
    
    Ray shrugged, staring out the window. "Is it me, or is it actually getting
    darker? What time is it?" 
    
    Fraser looked. "Three fifteen."
    
    "AM or PM?"
    
    "I..." Fraser paused, thinking. "I'm not sure...Do you want to stop?
    Perhaps get some rest?" 
    
    Ray bit his lip. Carefully, this time. "I'm afraid to stop, Frase." 
    
    There was a pause. "I am, too."
    
    ***
    
    The doctor came after what seemed like an eternity, Lauren just a step
    behind. She stopped when she saw Calhoun and let out a laugh. 
    
    "So, they finally nailed you too, you bastard!"
    
    Calhoun glared. "Turnbull, get that bitch the hell out of here! She has
    no right to be here now!" 
    
    Swiftly, the huge constable placed himself directly in Lauren's path.
    
    "Ms. Heller, if you would kindly leave the room."
    
    "And if I don't?" she challenged.
    
    Calhoun answered from beside Tom's bed. "I'll fucking kill you."
    
    She paled, believing him, and Turnbull shooed her away.
    
    "This is going to be difficult," stated the doctor. "This man should
    not be having a child." 
    
    Calhoun rolled his eyes. "You think?"
    
    Another howl of pain from the Moloch. "James..."
    
    "It's all right..." Calhoun looked at the doctor, his own innards cramping
    right along with Tom's. "Do /something/. NOW." 
    
    ***
    
    Ray looked up as the DJ came back on. "Joe D back again with a birth
    announcement for all you late listeners. Nikko Florence Calhoun was born
    at First General of Wyrm at 3:45 AM. That poor kid. The breeder insists
    she was named after her father, though his name is James Kilpatrick Calhoun,
    so you go ahead and figure that one out, gang...." 
    
    As the DJ rambled, Ray looked at Fraser. "He wasn't that pregnant when
    he...left." 
    
    "I know."
    
    "Something happened."
    
    "Yes."
    
    /Gosh, I think the Yank may be on to something./ Fraser Sr. was suddenly
    in the back seat. 
    
    "Jesus, Canada. A little warning?"
    
    "Dad? Can you get to them? Find out what's happening?"
    
    /I can sure as hell try.../
    
    "Florence?" Ray wondered.  He looked back at Aja. The boy was just stirring.
    "Hey! Aja! Ya got a new sister! Sorta." 
    
    "What?" wondered the ancient vampire lord.
    
    "Yer dad just had the baby. Cal's baby. Nikko, he named her."
    
    He smiled at the thought. "Isn't it too soon, even for a human child?"
    
    "Way too soon," Ray said softly.
    
    ***
    
    Tom rested his head on the pillows, trembling and cold as the pain slowly
    subsided. He barely noticed. All he knew was that a baby girl as beautiful
    and perfect as Sophia was placed in his arms by the doctor. She was quiet
    and at peace, contrary to the way in which she'd entered this world.
    He hadn't expected to fall in love. Not with this child. She was nothing
    of his yet all of him because he was descended from this girl-child's
    mother.... 
    
    He sensed James right beside him, gazing down at them. So much like Marianne
    and Alice... 
    
    James bent his head down next to Tom's ear. "I love you," he whispered.
    
    With a happy smile, Tom reached up and slid his hand across James' hair,
    pulling him closer. "Love you, too, Sabbat." 
    
    He grinned and looked at his daughter. "You do nice work, Kinky." 
    
    "So do you." Tom suddenly frowned.
    
    "What? What's wrong?"
    
    "Your hair...it's grown a bit..."
    
    Calhoun ran his hand across the side of his head where Tom had shaved
    it last year. So it had grown. Quite a bit, considering his how slowly
    his hair grew. He gaped then looked at Turnbull. 
    
    "Perhaps we should make preparations to leave."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser and Ray switched seats without even getting out of the car. Fraser
    turned the radio down a bit, and glanced back at the sleeping children.
    "Perhaps we should've brought Cassandra..." 
    
    "They need her back there...She'll be fine..."
    
    ***
    
    "Dead?" Cassie stared at Vecchio, shocked. She was shouting. "What the
    fuck do you mean, dead??" 
    
    "Cassandra," her grandfather had his arms around her, hugging. "It's
    all right. They're fine...not dead...in the book..." 
    
    "Even worse...where's Adam?"
    
    "He's with Stan and Fraser."
    
    "And they left. Fucking fabulous. You let them take a three-year old...where?
    Where the hell are they going?" 
    
    "Only his body is three, Cass," Vecchio reminded quietly. "We don't know
    where they went. They took a lot of supplies and the GTO." 
    
    She shook her head, distraught. "Where's the book? Can't you get them
    out?" 
    
    "They took it with them."
    
    She glared. Stella's eyebrow rose, suddenly thinking what an excellent
    Vengeance demon this girl would make some day. 
    
    "So, what you're telling me is my father and his lover are trapped in
    a book with a Mountie, and the prince of this city has taken my so called
    brother on the run. Great. Just. Fucking. Great." She plopped into the
    chair next to her and glared. 
    
    Stella was impressed. Definitely Vengeance material.
    
    ***
    
    Tom was asleep, Nikko a tiny wrapped bundle beside him. Calhoun sat exhausted
    next to them, mesmerized by the sight of his lover and child. He looked
    up when Turnbull cleared his throat. 
    
    "Jamey?"
    
    He looked up at the Seeker, remembering the first time he had been forced
    to trust this man with the fate of his clan. A man of honor in a world
    where honor had little value any more. 
    
    "Where are we, Turnbull?"
    
    "Let's go out in the hall. I don't want to disturb Tom."
    
    ***
    
    "...and that was 'Bad Moon Rising' by CCR, a special dedication to the
    wolf boy riding in the back seat. Give 'em a lick for me, Diefie. Next
    up, 'The Night Chicago Died' and then I have a special guest here to
    torture you listeners with. Stick around for my man Bob Fraser and whatever
    you do, don't stop listening." 
    
    ***
    
    "So...where do we stand?"
    
    "Like it or no, we've allied ourselves with Wyrm."
    
    Calhoun smirked. "I'm Sabbat. I've been allied for years even if I didn't
    want to admit it." 
    
    Turnbull nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as they slowly walked
    down the hall. "He needs Ray. So does D'Hoffryn." 
    
    "What is it about him?"
    
    "He's building up power and strength. Remember how he always had the
    potential? This is why he's always been such a target." 
    
    "Vampires with souls are a rarity."
    
    "He was wise to entrust his to Fraser. He's well on his way to becoming
    a fire vampire and they are they only thing, according to Lord Caine,
    that Wyrm fears. Seeing as how D'Hoffryn is not as resilient as the Wyrm,
    he too is threatened." 
    
    Calhoun rolled his eyes. Sometimes Turnbull was too much like Fraser
    with the long-windedness. "So when he burns hotter than Hell, he'll be
    able to destroy one or the other. And since we're allies, I guess that
    means blue boy is toast?" 
    
    "Wyrm existed for eons beneath the earth. He gave earth balance. It was
    man's goodness that kept him in check, goodness that couldn't exist without
    Wyrm's evil." 
    
    "You're saying we need the snake alive."
    
    "Wyrm is not for the likes of us to destroy, Jamey. He must be...detained."
    
    "How the hell do you propose we do that?"
    
    "I'm...working that problem."
    
    Calhoun sighed, leaning against the nurse's station. He jumped when he
    heard his own name come out of the radio. "Turn it up," he asked the
    nurse and she complied with a flirtatious smile that the vampire ignored.
    
    "Message repeats," a voice that he recognized as Bob Fraser reported.
    "If Renfield Turnbull, James Calhoun or Thomas Grissom is out there in
    listener-land, please come to the radio station on Dhole Street. I have
    a message for you." 
    
    ***
    
    They entered the room to wake Tom up and were stunned to see he was already
    awake. He was staring at something in shock. 
    
    They followed his gaze. The baby was gone. Lying on the other hospital
    bed was a four-year old girl. 
    
    "Nikko?" breathed Calhoun in disbelief.
    
    There was no denying it. She looked exactly like Tom must have at this
    age. As he knew Marianne had. The three men jumped when she stirred and
    stretched, yawning as she opened her gray eyes. She smiled when she saw
    them looking at her. 
    
    "Good morning, Daddy," she said in a sweet, baby voice.
    
    Calhoun looked at Tom, who gestured helplessly.
    
    "If I had blood pressure, I'd faint."
    
    ***
    
    In the end, they all went.
    
    The doctor expressed no surprise that the child born yesterday should
    be four today. His whole explanation? 
    
    "Mighty is the Wyrm of the Earth."
    
    To which Calhoun added a few muttered comments. Tom seemed to have healed
    just as rapidly as Nikko had grown and he displayed no sign of having
    been through another difficult delivery. Nikko was asleep against her
    father's shoulder and Tom was happily watching her black curls drift
    about in the warm breeze. 
    
    "Dhole Street," muttered Calhoun.
    
    "Right this way," hissed a familiar voice. They looked up to the street
    sign to see Adolph.  Before his two companions could react the way they
    wanted, Turnbull nodded. 
    
    "Show us."
    
    Ten minutes later, they left their guide and were climbing the stairs
    of a tall brownstone to the radio station. Before Turnbull could knock,
    the door was yanked open and a now-familiar voice exclaimed, "Oh, Christ,
    another decanter!" 
    
    "I beg your pardon?" wondered Turnbull then stopped. "You're Joe?" 
    
    The man smiled. "You have to be Renfield. It wouldn't fit these two posers.
    Get in here before he drives me back to drink and drugs." 
    
    They filed into the small office area and Tom found himself gaping. But
    for a rounder face and a scruffy appearance, Joe could have been James'
    brother. 
    
    "Nice hair, Jimmy," commented Joe, noticing the similarities himself.
    "Will you guys go talk to this old geezer before I toss him out a closed
    window?" 
    
    /I heard that, Joe!/ snapped Robert Fraser, entering the office. He eyed
    them all up. Turnbull was at attention until the sergeant saluted him.
    /Hmph! Old geezer indeed! Constable, Elder, Seer, there's a few things
    you need to hear about the state of the world./ 
    
    "What Old Dead Man's trying to tell you is that the world outside sucks.
    Chicago's gonna suck, 'cause you guys figured out about the rest. The
    only bright point is Wyrm's world. The book. Down side is there's an
    entry fee. And we get anymore people in here, it'll blow," Joe supplied,
    feeling helpful today. He headed back into the booth. 
    
    Tom glanced at Calhoun. "James, I'm going to take Nikko outside." 
    
    Calhoun watched him leave and turned back to Fraser Sr., not even bothering
    to question how or why they could all see the ghost. "What happens when
    it blows?" 
    
    "Chaos."
    
    ***
    
    Tom let Nikko sit on the stairs and sat next to her, watching Adolph
    fly circles around the brownstone. Finally, Adolph landed in front of
    him. "Daddy..." The voice was hoarse. Tom could clearly see the scratches
    that he'd given him. 
    
    "Adolph, I really don't have time for..." He gasped as he suddenly found
    himself wrapped in a leathery hug. 
    
    Adolph hissed in his ear. "One of them will kill me...don't let her...please."
    
    "You won't be killed, Adolph, I prom-"
    
    "Wyrm has decreed. I know what was said. My life for my sister's soul.
    It's not unfair, Daddy."  He looked at Nikko. Large gray eyes watched
    him with interest and not a trace of fear. "Just not her. The other,
    the Slayer, the Sage...she'll know what to do." 
    
    "All right..." Tom nodded, reluctantly. "Okay." He returned Adolph's
    hug awkwardly and was pleasantly shocked when Adolph actually kissed
    him on the cheek. He could only hope that the affection was genuine,
    not another ploy, because he knew he would fall for it. 
    
    "Look at her now, daddy..." Adolph sounded awed.
    
    Tom pulled slightly back and glanced at Nikko.
    
    She'd aged again. By at least 6 years.
    
    ***
    
    /My son and the Yank are on their way to Fortitude Pass./
    
    Turnbull blinked. He had thought they were still in Chicago.
    
    /They have the werewolf and Lord Caine with them, plus this book and
    the cards and that damned box of fortune cookies in the trunk./ 
    
    "Why did they bring those cookies?" laughed Calhoun.
    
    /The Yank said they were delivered to him and he didn't want the others
    going crazy over what they said. You'll notice how the fortunes were
    coming true.../ 
    
    "I love fortune cookies," called Joe. "Why the hell didn't you guys bring
    me some?" 
    
    "Next time," promised Calhoun.
    
    "Hey, where'd you get those boots, Fang?"
    
    "U.S. Army standard issue."
    
    "Fuck, I'm not joining the army just for boots."
    
    /Go play a record, will you? Something by Sinatra./ Fraser looked at
    his audience. /Gets 'em every time./ 
    
    "Sinatra? Not while I'm dead!"
    
    ***
    
    Tom knelt beside his daughter and looked to Adolph, worried. "Do you
    know why this is happening?" 
    
    "My father wished it."
    
    Tom nodded. "Wyrm."
    
    "She is...required in the battle against my father's enemy. And your
    enemy." 
    
    ***
    
    Ray nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Turnbull's voice coming
    out of the radio. 
    
    "I'm afraid I don't know how to..."
    
    "Just talk. You can do that? Blah blah blah," the DJ teased mercilessly.
    
    Turnbull's throat cleared. Fraser glanced at Ray.
    
    "Constable Fraser? Prince Kowalski? When you get to Fortitude Pass, you
    must start a fire. Take off the ring, if you've put it on, Ray. You must
    burn the book. Destroy it." 
    
    "Hey, I thought you guys were socialists, not commies!" teased Ray. 
    
    "Our medical services are socialist, Ray."
    
    "Same thing! No wonder you guys wear red."
    
    "Oh, yeah, Stalin! Burn those books!" yelled Joe D. "Renny, you're an
    unnatural over the air.  Don't quit your day job. So, you two in the
    GTO get that? Just for that, you're all going to have to listen to the
    live version of 'Burning Down the House'." 
    
    "How far are we from the pass?" wondered Aja, leaning over the seat.
    
    Fraser consulted the maps, reading by the light of a flashlight.
    
    "We've been traveling about three days now. We're more than halfway there,
    as far as I can tell." 
    
    Ray shook his head, accelerating yet more. "I dunno. Something tells
    me we're really pressed for time." 
    
    Aja looked at his son, gently touching the half-healed bite mark on his
    ear. "Let me do a reading." 
    
    Ray glanced back at him. "Maybe..."
    
    "What, Raymond?"
    
    "Maybe I should try. Y'know, how I flash with each card. I might be able
    to see something we need ta know." 
    
    Fraser frowned, knowing what the flashes cost Ray. "Do you think it wise?"
    
    "The only wise thing I've done is give you my soul, Frase. Other than
    that, I'm runnin' on instinct." He slowed down and finally stopped, allowing
    Fraser to take the wheel and climbing into the back with Aja as Dief
    rode shotgun. Fraser, who was actually getting into the habit of speeding,
    pulled out again on the seemingly endless stretch of highway through
    the Canadian provinces. 
    
    "Who's up first?" he asked.
    
    Caine held up a card. The Prince. Kowalski himself.
    
    "Let 'er rip, daddy-o." He grabbed the card, and frowned. Nothing. He
    looked at Aja, confused. "Next." 
    
    "What'd you see?" Fraser called back.
    
    "Never you mind what I saw, Nosey Parker, eyes on the road. Next card."
    
    The Light. He could see a girl, around 18 or 19. Kissing Adolph on the
    cheek. She could be Cassie's sister. Or even Tom's. Was it Sophia? She
    had grown so beautiful and tall... 
    
    The Soldier. He saw Calhoun in a pit, white wisps of mist moving all
    around him. He was absolutely still, hands outstretched beseechingly
    to...what?  The vision drew closer and Ray could see the glint of frost
    in the vampire's hair. It took a moment, but abruptly Ray realized Jamey
    was frozen as solid as ice, his lips parted, his eyes full of old pain.
    
    The Seer. Tom in the throes of what looked like a heavy-duty vision.
    He crouched in darkness, bracing himself in the cold and damp as he wept
    for his children. 
    
    The Tower. The Thirteenth in ruins. Thank God for small favors. Urban
    renewal Bible style. 
    
    The Seeker. Turnbull reaching for Mina.
    
    A beautiful, smiling, gray-eyed girl. He thought he should know her.
    
    The Sacrifice. Tom and D'Hoffryn.
    
    A new card: Hell. Cecil. And a man Ray didn't recognize but thought he
    should know. When Aja handed him the Spiritus Sanctii card, he felt a
    chill take him like a blast of Arctic wind and blackness engulfed him.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun stared at his daughter, now ten. "Tom?" He looked at his lover,
    worried. "Wyrm did this?" 
    
    "It's all right, daddy..." She hugged him tightly. "We're all right..."
    
    "We?" He frowned, unable to keep the suspicions out of his voice. He
    glanced at Adolph, who was keeping out of range by perching on a building
    across the street. 
    
    Tom looked down, then up. "Maybe...there were a few things I forgot to
    mention." 
    
    He held the bridge of his nose, knowing he really couldn't get a headache
    but able to do a fair imitation. "Like what?" he said, almost afraid
    to know. 
    
    "Um...y'know how I gave all my Slayer heritage to Sophia?"
    
    "Yeah."
    
    "The dead Slayers channeled all their ability into Nikko when Marianne
    entered me. She's...the Slayer Incarnate." 
    
    "You...knew this."
    
    Tom winced. "Yeah."
    
    A sigh. "Great." He sat down heavily next to Tom. Nikko went to stand
    in front of him in her too-short gown. She smiled at both her fathers.
    
    "Don't worry, Daddy. I'll protect you."
    
    They looked at each other, terrified. Turnbull came down the stairs and
    got an eyeful of Nikko. "Oh dear." 
    
    ***
    
    "Kowalski."
    
    Ray groaned, not wanting to open his eyes. There was sun. He could feel
    it. He didn't want sun. He was getting used the dark. 
    
    A sigh. "Kowalski!"
    
    D'Hoffryn. The demon stood before him. Ray opened his eyes and gasped
    in shock. "Oh God!" He was completely engulfed in fire, yet he wasn't
    burned.  He /was/ the fire and it was him. 
    
    "I can make it so you're like this for all eternity," D'Hoffryn's voice
    intoned mercilessly. "You'll never touch your lover again. If you do..."
    He let the sentence drop. 
    
    Ray gasped. "I don't work for you."
    
    "You wear my ring. You're mine. Understand?"
    
    Ray glared, raising his hands. "Sum Wyrm, sub Terra, Smurf-boy."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser wanted to pull over to the side of the road, but Aja insisted
    he keep driving. He didn't want to run into more border patrol, did he?
    He wasn't sure they could this far from the border, but the DJ kept insisting
    they watch out. 
    
    He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was getting quite tired.
    
    ***
    
    "Wyrm did this," Calhoun stated.
    
    As Turnbull watched, the Sabbat put his elbow through the glass panel
    of a clothing store's door across the street from the radio station.
    Tom had gone to see if they could get a portable radio from Joe. "Can
    he stop it?" 
    
    "What are you doing, Jamey?"
    
    "My soon-to-be-teenage daughter is not walking through the streets of
    this place half naked.  Now, can he stop it?" 
    
    "Stop what?" Turnbull inquired. Then he glanced at Nikko and he actually
    blushed and looked away when he saw exactly how little she had on. "Oh.
    Yes. I'm sure he could. We could go and ask him." 
    
    "Oh, let's," was the sarcastic reply as Calhoun carried his daughter
    into the store past the broken glass then set her down and let her go
    pick something out. 
    
    Suddenly, the floor shifted under them. They staggered, but Nikko acted
    as if this was a regular occurrence and went straight for the dresses.
    
    ***
    
    "Yo, you mondo-boring denizens of the city, Joe D coming at ya with Wyrm
    alert! The pissed snake factor is off the scale! Hold on to something
    more stable than yourself, folks! Seems like Blue Boy is trying to muscle
    in on his action! And in honor of his wyrminess rockin' and rollin',
    here's a blast from the past that I'd sooner die again than actually
    have to sing, 'Shake, Rattle, and Roll'!" 
    
    ***
    
    The road had turned from smooth to dangerous, potholes marring the surface
    and making the going difficult. Fraser fought to keep on track, slowing
    down to avoid crashing. 
    
    ***
    
    "No," snapped Ray. "I don't understand. Ya want yer rotten ring back?
    I'll walk to the pass if I hafta.  Ya want your world all pretty and
    populated? I'll burn it to a cinder! Just call me Mr. Heat Miser, 'kay?"
    
    D'Hoffryn chuckled. "You are spirited, Prince Kowalski."
    
    "Am not drunk, blue boy."
    
    The Primal smiled. Ray fixed his glasses, wondering if he needed them
    now to save him from himself. 
    
    "I can see why Caine chose you. You are strong, but not strong enough
    to withstand my wrath." 
    
    "Yeah? I kin do that. Way I hear it, pal, I'm gonna to be able to pack
    enough punch to flatten Wyrm. If ya need me so bad to toast Wyrm, that
    tells me you can't do it yerself and that tells me yer just as viable
    a target as the snake."  Viable. He was talkin' Canadian now. Oh, well,
    when in Tuktoyaktuk... 
    
    ***
    
    "Our local Seer slash Slayer slash mangy Moloch slash sex kitten wants
    to intone a message to one Benton Fraser, RCMS. 'Wake him up, or I swear
    I'll sic Adolph on you,'" The DJ chuckled, "Feisty, ain't he? Howzabout
    it, Constable F? Gonna wake him up? Or do you want the flying rock troll
    on your case?" 
    
    Fraser glanced back at the unconscious Ray, and slammed on the brakes.
    He was getting rather good at this reckless driving. 
    
    Or, in his case so far, wreckless driving.
    
    "And in honor of the occasion, here's Billy Joel's 'We Didn't Start the
    Fire' goin' out from me to the prince formerly known as a ghoulite."
    
    ***
    
    Ray was just about to start in on another rant when he felt slimy tentacles
    wrap around him and yank him away. D'Hoffryn gave a very unmannerly curse
    as his captive was snatched away. Ray yelped and then all was dark. 
    
    Not for long.
    
    He could see fire. Fire engulfing the entire pass.
    
    A dank and cold pit. Tom in the throes of a vision.
    
    Calhoun offering himself to be destroyed for their salvation.
    
    A boy and a girl talking over a rose. The last rose. Or perhaps the first?
    
    ***
    
    Tom stumbled out of the station, trying to get across the street with
    the radio. He was halfway there when the ground shook, opened up, and
    he fell. 
    
    He didn't fall long.
    
    He landed in cold and dank surroundings. He'd sprained something, he
    could tell. Sitting up, he looked up at the sky. 
    
    It was gone, replaced by a rock and a metal, circular door.
    
    He looked back down. A rotten, partially mummified corpse lay on the
    floor next to him. He recognized it by the clothing and the tangled braid
    of filthy blond hair. 
    
    Winslow.
    
    "Oh hell..."
    
    He was in the Pit of Hell.
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun ran out of the store with Nikko just a step behind.
    
    "TOM!"
    
    Tom was gone. He'd just...vanished. Swallowed by the street. The radio,
    however, sat right where he had fallen. Calhoun snatched his daughter
    back when she moved to retrieve the device, which was on. He wanted to
    smack Joe for choosing that moment to play 'Get Back'. 
    
    ***
    
    "Whoa baby. Seems like the big W's lost himself a citizen. Either that,
    or the sidewalks are hung-ry." 
    
    ***
    
    "Adam! Adam! Wake up Ray! Now! Now! Get him out of this!"
    
    The boy tumbled to the floor as the GTO skidded to a halt. He had thought
    Raymond was merely asleep after so many visions, but... 
    
    Fraser was out of the car and pulling the seat forward. He helped Adam
    to get out of the way then pulled Ray out of the car, slapping his face
    lightly at first, then with more strength, shouting at him to waken.
    
    "Ray! Ray, wake up! Ray!"
    
    ***
    
    "Mine."
    
    "Huh?" wondered Ray. What was he, a prize for some demonic game?
    
    "You are mine, Prince Kowalski. You exist because I exist. From me came
    the Mother, from her your whole race. You are mine." 
    
    "Where's Fraser? Where's Tom? Where...am I?"
    
    "You are nowhere. Your soul is even now fighting to draw you back to
    your physical self. The Seer..." 
    
    "Yeah?"
    
    "The Seer is gone."
    
    Ray allowed himself exactly one minute to digest that. "Gone? Gone /where/?"
    
    "He's not in my domain any longer, and he is not where your physical
    self is." 
    
    "In other words, ya haven't got a clue."
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat next to the body, trying to strategize. He rolled up his pant
    leg, looking at his ankle. It was swelling rapidly. Sighing, he looked
    back up at the door covering the pit. No way he could get up there like
    this. 
    
    "Shit." He sat back, looking at Winslow's body. "Damn!" It had been so
    long since he had had to do any sort of slaying thing on his own. He'd
    let Ray and the others handle it. 
    
    Now he was on his own. Fraser and Ray in Canada. Turnbull and James in
    God only knew where. He scowled at Winslow's body, and crossed his arms.
    
    He didn't even know where to begin.
    
    ***
    
    "Watch her a sec," ordered Calhoun, stepping away from Turnbull. He concentrated,
    trying to find Tom through the link they shared. There was something...maybe
    because he was in some weird dimension, but all he could sense was that
    Tom was alive. Good enough. 
    
    He turned to rejoin Turnbull and Nikko when there was a rush of leathery
    wings and a smell of brimstone and Adolph landed in front of him, barring
    his way. 
    
    "What is it, spawn?" hissed Calhoun. For Tom's sake he refrained from
    saying what was really on his mind. 
    
    "You have to go to my father."
    
    "Wyrm knows exactly where I am."
    
    "No. I said that wrong. You have to go to my...daddy."
    
    Calhoun stared at him, floored.
    
    "What do you care?"
    
    "He made me a promise. I want to see he lives to fulfill it."
    
    The Sabbat Elder clenched his jaw, not wanting anything to do with this
    terrible little creature that had hurt his lover time and again.  Still,
    it appeared there were few options open to him. 
    
    "How?"
    
    "Meet me at the sanctuary. The Seeker knows the way."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser and Adam gave up, finally. There was no waking Ray from this state
    of seeming unconsciousness. He was limp and unresponsive and nothing
    they did reached him. Finally, for lack of any other course of action,
    they bundled him back into the car and Fraser, spurred by fear, drove
    like a madman. 
    
    ***
    
    Mort looked up as the Hienic handed him the tray of jars he'd requested.
    He smiled kindly at the demon and wondered at its disturbed expression.
    Odd for a Hyena demon. Normally it was impossible to get them to stop
    smiling.  "What is it? What is wrong?" 
    
    "Lucius says he heard commotion inside the Tomb."
    
    "Really?" Mort turned to the bank of video cameras that had long since
    been turned off. A few flicks of his wrist was all it took to turn them
    back on.  The grainy pictures showed a man, no, a Moloch hybrid, sitting
    on the floor amidst the corpses that had been left there to rot for three
    years.  "Oh my..." 
    
    "What shall we do?"
    
    "I'm not sure..."
    
    "Doctor Gustafson..." The Hienic, Rupert,  stared at the man as he struggled
    to his feet and began limping back and forth in the tomb and was struck
    with the typical demonic concern for their own. "The air in there is
    very thin. WE can't just leave him there." 
    
    "I know...Find out who he-" Mort paused as the phone next to him ring.
    "Yes?" He asked as he picked it up. "Oh. All right..." He hung up and
    flicked off the monitors. "Leave him." 
    
    "Sir?"
    
    "You heard me."
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat back against the wall, staring at Winslow's corpse. Maybe she
    has some sort of weapon. Or a key. He felt around in her pockets, pulling
    out her gun. Before he could even try aiming it at the door, his vision
    began flashing. 
    
    The floor went out from under him.
    
    ***
    
    Nikko came out of the radio station's bathroom four years older. Calhoun
    groaned inwardly. He knew they grew up too quickly, but this was out
    of control.  "Ok. That's it. Let's go." 
    
    "Go where?" Turnbull asked, quietly.
    
    "Wyrm. He started this, he can stop it. I want out, and I want her to
    stop aging. Now. Adolph said to meet him at the sanctuary. Take me there
    now." 
    
    Turnbull nodded just as Joe came around the corner, heading towards the
    bathroom. He did a double-take at Nikko. 
    
    "Jesus, Jimmy, what the hell are you feeding this kid?"
    
    "Not a god damned thing so far," growled the Sabbat.
    
    Joe eyed her curiously. "Maybe you should start."
    
    ***
    
    As they hurried down the street, Joe dedicated, 'We've Got to Get Out
    of this Place' to the sucker, the decanter, and the kitten. 
    
    If he wasn't dead already, Calhoun would have gone back and killed him.
    
    ***
    
    "Benton, you must get some sleep."
    
    He sighed. "Adam, we must reach the pass as quickly as possible." 
    
    "We won't do it if we crash, Benton. Please, rest. I can keep watch."
    
    Reluctantly, Fraser had to agree. He was exhausted. Ray was still unresponsive,
    and the road seemed endless. He pulled to the side of the road and settled
    back in the seat, his body relaxing instantly. They would eat later.
    
    If there was a later.
    
    "Wake me at midnight. Or noon."
    
    "I will. Sleep well, Benton." Aja turned the radio down to a dull roar.
    
    ***
    
    "This one goes out to Constable F from your friends here at Wyrmville,
    'Goodnight, Sweetheart'..." 
    
    ***
    
    "Why am I here, Wyrm? Ya want me to French fry D'Hoffryn, then what?
    I do that, and I just helped ya trash the planet! At least blue boy likes
    grass. Why should I back you?" 
    
    Suddenly before him appeared the Lt. Wyrm he'd met in Hell, complete
    with bad tie and geeky glasses stolen out of Ray's desk drawer. 
    
    "You have not seen the whole of the picture, Prince Kowalski."
    
    "Oh. Okay. Kodak moment, Lieu. Today Ray Kowalski, tomorrow the world,
    take off fer the weekend...then what? What's the point of ruling a dead
    shell? It's like drinking alone." 
    
    He froze when images assailed his mind. Wyrm's world. Populated and happy.
    Filled with wyrm worshippers. "What are you showing me?" 
    
    "The world."
    
    "What?"
    
    "What parts of it I could preserve, I have held safely. Those that have
    called upon me have been kept. You are among that number, Prince Kowalski."
    
    "Huh?" demanded Ray.
    
    He was rewarded with a snaky smile. "Sum Wyrm -"
    
    "-sub terra," finished Ray. "Shit."
    
    "Of course I want the world. It is my whole purpose for being. I delight
    in corruption and sin. I am not so foolish as to destroy the very object
    of my desire. I haven't destroyed you, have I? I could have done so time
    and again. I preserved you, as I have preserved the part of the world
    I wanted saved. Human kind will rise again to dominate the planet much
    as they did three years ago. I give them a decade before all is as it
    was. Only now, Raymond, the basis of civilization, my city, will be loyal
    to /me/ and I will be one step closer to challenging God in His heaven."
    
    Ray, vaguely Catholic by birth, frowned. "Am I going to go to Hell for
    this?" 
    
    "The odds are good."
    
    "Damn."
    
    "You're not missing much. Hell's a lot more fun and Heaven doesn't serve
    alcohol." 
    
    ***
    
    The Hienic dropped to his knees beside the Pit as he heard the screams
    begin. He pressed his ear to the door, and looked around at his fellow
    Primals. They were all twisted in worry, unable to stand the thought
    of one of their kind in agony. 
    
    ***
    
    He shook in pain as the visions took him over. He could see the world
    burning. He could see Marianne dying by James' hand. He could see Faith
    dying by rabbit girl's... 
    
    "Oh God...please..."
    
    His arms flopped, hitting the corpse's. He screamed.
    
    Winter. All was frozen and covered with snow as he looked down upon some
    surreal landscape with buildings in the distance. Closer. Closer. A concentration
    camp. Walking corpses. German guards. Ovens. Showers. A dark-haired woman
    who would not leave until all suffering was eliminated from this nightmare.
    
    "James..." All in white, creeping across the snow.
    
    A frenzy of killing, of death. A silent slaughter. They let him come.
    They let him take them.  They let him release them from the camp at Chelmno.
    He saw James, dripping blood, a gory vision of death and self-loathing,
    as he was running away, dragging the woman along. 
    
    A cold mist. The Spiritus Sanctii of Chelmno.
    
    "Oh, god, James..."
    
    Skin the color of rotten flesh. Hooked claws, fangs, rendering the flesh
    of the fallen. The blond-haired Anarch reaching for him, knowing he was
    not an ordinary demon, helping his torn wings to heal. Driven by the
    voice of his father to destroy and glorying in the fear of the slaughtered
    masses... 
    
    Tom screamed for his son, his lover, knowing he was being made to see
    the very worst the ones he loved had ever done. It was not fair. 
    
    They had no choice.
    
    ***
    
    Fraser woke up to the strains of 'Let It Snow' coming over the radio
    and sure enough, it was snowing. He'd gotten almost six hours of sleep
    and though stiff and a little fuzzy, he did feel better. 
    
    Adam was still beside him and despite his best efforts, the boy had fallen
    asleep and was slumped against Fraser. The Mountie smiled. Adam was a
    very valiant figure despite the fact he had nodded off. 
    
    He glanced in the back. Dief was awake, looking at him smugly as if to
    expound on his wolfish superiority. Ray was unchanged, still stretched
    across the back seat. Fraser felt the detective's cheek. He felt as if
    he had a fever and that was with the ring on. This was not good. He was
    putting off so much warmth they didn't need to turn on the heat in the
    car. 
    
    When Adam woke they would get some food. Fraser started the car up again
    and pulled back onto the empty road. 
    
    "...Joe D comin' at ya from the land of milk and honey, you ain't seen
    nothin' yet. Those of you that are planning on heading them off at the
    pass can expect snow despite the fact that it's actually high summer
    in the Northwest Areas. Hang in there, Benton buddy, you're about to
    pass go and collect your two hundred smackers. I was asked to send a
    message to Con F in the Stetson and I want ya to say it aloud if you
    know the answer to the following: what's Latin for "I am the Wyrm of
    the earth'? If you know the answer, you may win a soul of your very own.
    Benny, you're inspiring me, man. Here's 'Soul Man' by the Blues Brothers."
    
    He floored it.
    
    ***
    
    Turnbull paused and stared at the radio. /Oh, dear god, don't, Benton./
    
    ***
    
    He knew this place. Fortitude Pass. Wyrm must have brought them here
    because he never should have been able to drive this far. The ground
    was frozen and miraculously clear. He brought the car to a halt. In the
    distance, in the dim light cast by the headlights. He could see the wreck
    of the medivac chopper from almost four years ago, a rusted heap. 
    
    Adam stirred, realized he had slept through noon, and gave Fraser an
    apologetic look. 
    
    "Don't worry. We're there."
    
    "Fortitude Pass. I had hoped never to return." He loosened his belt and
    scrambled over the seat to look at Ray. "We have to burn the book. Where
    do you want to do this?" 
    
    "There." Fraser pointed to a relatively barren patch in the middle of
    the pass. "That area without trees. We'll bring him there." 
    
    They parked about a hundred feet away and Fraser carried Ray to the clearing.
    Snow hissed and sizzled as it touched Ray's skin. Fraser lay him down.
    Adam followed, teetering under the weight of the Necronomicon. 
    
    "Get back in the car and get your belt on," ordered Fraser after helping
    Adam to place the book on Ray's lap. He watched until the three-year
    old boy obeyed, then lifted Ray's hand, working the ring loose a little
    as his other hand reached for the cover of the book. It wouldn't open.
    Damn. 
    
    "Sum Wyrm..." Fraser stared straight ahead. "Sub Terra."
    
    The book opened. He yanked the ring off Ray's finger and ran for the
    car. 
    
    And then all hell broke loose.
    
    Or more literally, Wyrmville.
    
    He'd been in explosions before. This was like one, only silent. He leaped
    into the car and put it in gear just as a bright flash and a rush of
    super-heated air threw the GTO three feet forward. Fraser put the brakes
    on, stopping the car on a dime, no small feat since the pass was no longer
    frozen solid, but slick mud. Steam rose in great banks as a fire hotter
    than hell swept through the pass. 
    
    Adam gripped his arm, Dief draped himself over the seat, and together
    they stared, open mouthed as a city seemed to grow around them. 
    
    "Whoa baby. Thought we lost ya there for a minute, gang," Joe D remarked.
    "Time to welcome our favorite traveling group toWyrmville, now located
    direct at Fortitude Pass. Here's a big hello out to Con F, Prince Kowalski,
    Wolf boy and the kid formerly known as King Caine. Here's 'Land of Illusion'!"
    
    ***
    
    Tom opened his eyes, images still assailing his mind and body. Heheard
    forms drop near him and felt hands all over his body. "Helpme...please..."
    
    "Yes, brother. And you'll help us."
    
    Everything went black.
    
    ***
    
    They were in the sanctuary when the second quake hit. Calhoun lifted
    his daughter out the window to Turnbull's ready arms before climbing
    out onto the lawn. The city shook and trembled, but it was a steady motion
    and Turnbull yelled, 
    
    "We're moving!"
    
    "Now! Now!" shouted Adolph. He swooped down at Turnbull and Calhoun.
    "Prince Kowalski has summoned the Wyrm! Now, while my father is distracted,
    send the Sabbat to the Seer! Now!" 
    
    Turnbull shook his head, setting Nikko down. "We need demonic blood!"
    he yelled above the rumble of the city. 
    
    "Mine! Take mine!" cried Adolph.
    
    Calhoun looked at Turnbull. Coming to a decision, he nodded curtly. "Do
    it. Take care of Nikko." 
    
    "This is going to be very crude," Turnbull warned. "I apologize now,
    Jamey." 
    
    He retrieved a piece of broken glass from the lawn and went to Adolph.
    The demon offered his arm. 
    
    "Jamey, say good-bye to Nikko now." A rush of hot air swept through the
    city. Hotter than Hell..."Hurry!" 
    
    He crushed his daughter to him and she smiled fearlessly. He paused,
    looking into the bright gray eyes and running his hand through her curling
    black hair. She looked just like her mother. Like Tom. 
    
    "Stay with Turnbull, Nikko," he ordered. "I love you."
    
    "I love you, too, Daddy. Bring Daddy back for me."
    
    "I will."
    
    ***
    
    Ray stirred as he felt the ground shake underneath him. Groggy, as if
    he'd gotten no sleep as opposed to two solid days worth, he sat up, staring
    as buildings grew from rock and grass. He was in the center of what appeared
    to be a smaller, cleaner, and more organized version of Chicago. He couldn't
    look for long. It was daytime here. The first light he'd seen in a week
    or more and it blinded him. 
    
    Which was not a bad thing because there was a book on his lap and he
    could tell by the dimensions exactly which book it was. He snapped it
    shut and set it on the ground. He was on...cobblestone? Shit, he was
    on fire. The ring was gone. He couldn't tell, but he knew he was putting
    off enough heat to start melting the stone if he didn't am-scray soon.
    Problem was, where the hell was here? And more importantly, where was
    Fraser? 
    
    "Ray! Ray!"
    
    He heard the voice above the dull roar that his super-heated body put
    off. 
    
    "Ray! Stay still!"
    
    He sighed in relief. Fraser.
    
    "Fraser! Where's that decoder ring thing?"
    
    He could hear other voices. The Wyrmvillians weren't too impressed with
    his imitation of the burning bush and after a few glances, went about
    their business. 
    
    "I have it. Stay right where you are. I'm putting it down here and I'll
    direct you to it.  Alright?" 
    
    "Got my glasses?"
    
    "We will. Adam..."
    
    As the demon ran back to the car with Dief, Fraser set the ring down
    and backed far away. "Turn to your right. Stop. Walk forward. I'll tell
    you when to turn." 
    
    He kept moving away, knowing he was too close and would walk away singed.
    Carefully, he directed Ray to the ring sitting on the curb, and when
    Ray slipped it onto his finger and the inferno that he had become was
    cooled, Fraser ran to him. 
    
    He all but tackled the detective and Ray, blind as a bat and not caring
    who might see, kissed Fraser right there. When finally they came up for
    air, both men said at the same time, "I missed you!" 
    
    They laughed, still in each other's arms and Ray rested his head on Fraser's
    shoulder. "Where are we? I thought I saw a city." 
    
    Fraser looked around at the tidy buildings and cheerful, blue sky. "I
    don't know if it has a name. Or if I have a word for it. Utopia In Nomine
    Vermis, perhaps." 
    
    He looked over as Adam returned at a run, Dief at his heels and a shaken-looking
    Turnbull a few steps behind. There was a girl of about eighteen with
    him and Fraser stared at her. She looked like Marianne Calhoun. 
    
    The girl from Ray's dream.
    
    Fraser stared at the girl, then at Turnbull. "Who is this? Where's Jamey?
    Tom?" He helped Ray put on the red-tinted glasses so the Caanite could
    open his eyes. 
    
    "Tom was taken. D'Hoffryn we believe. Jamey and Adolph went to find him,"
    Turnbull panted, breathlessly. 
    
    "Whoa. Whoa. Hold up. Jamey and /Adolph/?" Ray demanded.
    
    Turnbull shrugged, helplessly. "Apparently Tom made him some sort of
    promise. I don't know the details." 
    
    Fraser stared at him, seriously, then at the girl. "Turnbull..."
    
    "Nikko," the girl said, stepping forward with a smile. "My fathers are
    alright. For now." 
    
    ***
    
    Lifted. He was being lifted out of the pit, and into the general population.
    A few gentles slaps woke him the rest of the way, and he forced his eyes
    open. 
    
    His vision blurred and he couldn't make it stop. Four Primals surrounded
    him, two Hienics and two Molochs. They were smiling. "In....nomine vermis...."
    He muttered under his breath, swaying as they fought to support him.
    
    "Sum Wyrm, Sub Terra," they whispered, rebels against their Higher just
    as Tom was. His legs collapsed under him, and he felt them catch him.
    
    He woke up in a nightmare. Alex, pacing back in forth in the bathroom
    in the Drewry Center. Only it wasn't Alex. Not really. And it wasn't
    Cecil. 
    
    The eyes. It was Wyrm.
    
    "You've tested well, Seer." Wyrm stared at him, and he felt like squirming.
    "Every obstacle, you've managed to get through. Do you think you're ready?"
    
    Cecil perched on the sink, watching him with fond concern. "Of course
    he's ready." 
    
    "Ready for what?" His nose hurt. Was this a dream?
    
    "Ready to rise."
    
    God. No. "Why?"
    
    "D'Hoffryn has his own agenda. The Primals will not follow him any longer.
    They require a new Higher," Cecil said quietly. 
    
    "Are you ready?" His father, Daniel was sitting on the opposite side
    of the bathroom. 
    
    "Are you ready?" A reflection in a mirror. Himself, aged nineteen. 
    
    Tom stared in unwilling comprehension. "I'm not a Slayer Born anymore!
    I gave that power to Sophia!" 
    
    Daniel dismissed his argument with a gesture. "Slayer or not, that has
    no bearing. Are you ready, Thomas?" 
    
    ***
    
    They were hurtling too fast, burning down a tunnel of light and speed.
    The wormhole was amok, all twists and bends at a rate so rapid Calhoun
    thought he might be sick, possible or not. The fiery colors were blinding,
    wrong, this was nothing like the hellmouth and all sense of time was
    squashed in favor of the gut-wrenching feeling of freefall. 
    
    An eternity passed, though he knew it was merely seconds before suddenly
    the floor rushed up and he was slammed into darkness. 
    
    James Calhoun lay on the floor of the Tomb in the bowels of Hell, unconscious.
    
    Adolph landed atop him. The vampire had somewhat softened the impact.
    After a few minutes of lying there stunned, the demon stirred. 
    
    The trap door had been left open.
    
    He launched himself through it. He knew exactly where he was. He'd been
    born here. 
    
    ***
    
    "I don't understand," Tom shook his head, trying to stand. His legs didn't
    seem to wish to work. 
    
    "You're required," Wyrm came closer. "We've been preparing you."
    
    "We?" He looked at Cecil, at his father. "No."
    
    "I'm sorry, Tom. I should've told you, but I..." Cecil started then stopped.
    "Are you ready?" 
    
    "I..."
    
    "Show him what will happen, Wyrm," Daniel stated, bluntly. "If he doesn't..."
    
    Images hit him hard. He could see James being killed. Sophia...dead.
    Nikko burned alive. God no. No. 
    
    He was barely aware he was sobbing.
    
    "Are you ready?" Wyrm asked quietly. He was leaning down now, his lips....Alex's
    lips were against Tom's forehead. "Are you ready, would you save your
    children?" 
    
    "Ready...I'm ready...."
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun woke up to the sound of howling screams. Tom. Did God hate him
    that much? 
    
    He struggled to his feet, wondering how he'd ever get out of this pit.
    
    ***
    
    Adolph flew towards his father, lying on his side in a cell as the Primals
    paced and wandered outside of it. His daddy was screaming. Shrieking.
    He flew into the cage, landing next to the cot. 
    
    He could feel the power in his daddy building.
    
    ***
    
    D'Hoffryn slammed his phone down so hard it shattered. Zuko actually
    jumped, the demon made him tense. Conrad sat in the chair adjacent, giggling
    his head off. 
    
    D'Hoffryn shot him a glare, and then he really did laugh his head off.
    
    "Sinclair!!" he shouted for the serpentine, completely ignoring the decapitated
    Heinic. "Come with me." 
    
    Zuko sat back, hating this life. Oh, well, at least it was quieter with
    Conrad out of the picture. 
    
    ***
    
    She had seen them at night sometimes, though she never mentioned it to
    anyone in the house.  Experience told her they were Sabbat. Jamey's clan.
    And they were guarding the Vecchio house during the long nights. 
    
    It was more than the Giovanni had done, much to Irene's irritation, but
    she had to admit D'Hoffryn was keeping both Warfield and her brother
    rather busy. 
    
    It was still a touching gesture, thought Stella. Jamey really did love
    his daughter, though she suspected the Elder would have ordered the protection
    even if Sophia was not here. 
    
    She was a good baby, though clearly she missed both of her fathers. She
    was so beautiful, too, with her raven-black hair and blue eyes. She was
    alert for her age and rarely cried. She just wanted Jamey and Tom back.
    
    There was an odd sound on the roof. Stella looked to the window curiously,
    wondering if she should call Ray, when the window exploded and the winged
    demons swarmed into the room. 
    
    ***
    
    The ladder of Filtha bones still remained.
    
    Hell would crumble into dust before those damned bones deteriorated.
    
    Calhoun glanced around the pit, trying to find anything he could cover
    his hands with to climb out. There was nothing but rotting remains and
    Winslow's semi-mummified form. Nasty bitch. 
    
    Well, she hadn't been too useful in life, maybe in death...
    
    It was gruesome even to Calhoun, stripping the coat off her back. As
    he wrapped his hands in the cloth he wondered where Adolph had gotten
    off to. Then he was climbing out of the arena where he had killed Tom
    a mere three years ago. 
    
    ***
    
    She'd stopped aging, Turnbull noticed after an hours wandering around
    the new and Wyrm-improved Fortitude Pass. He was glad, He hadn't been
    sure what Wyrm's plan had been on that note. 
    
    Ray and Fraser had gone to get information from Joe, and had left Dief
    and Aja with him. 
    
    He sighed, watching the three of them play, and for the first time in
    days, his thoughts turned back to Faith, and her untimely death. 
    
    She had been like a daughter to him, and he was /sure/ that Xander knew
    what had happened to her. He'd find out about it if he could, he knew
    Xander. He could never keep things bottled up for long. Not after what
    had happened in Sunnydale to bring him to the Asylum in Baltimore. 
    
    He sat down on the edge of a fountain, looking down at the book he carried.
    The Necronomicon was singed, the flesh cover slightly discolored, but
    otherwise intact. Strange. He was growing hungry. He hadn't been hungry
    the whole time they had been inside the tome. Interesting. 
    
    ***
    
    Xander knocked on the door to the nursery. He'd heard a crash, and it'd
    woken him up from his afternoon nap. Silence met his ears, and he bit
    at his lower lip. "Stella? Irene?" He gently pushed the door open and
    gaped. 
    
    The place had been torn apart. Stella lay, sprawled on the floor of the
    nursery, bleeding and the babies... 
    
    Were gone. Taken.
    
    ***
    
    "Daddy?"
    
    Tom's eyes slowly opened, and he could feel the change in himself. Everything
    felt clearer. He felt clearer. "Adolph..." 
    
    "What's become of you?"
    
    "Wha-?"
    
    Tom sat up with the demon's help. Adolph crouched before him and there
    was actually concern etched on his face. Despite the fact that he felt
    like someone else entirely, Tom smiled at his son and gently touched
    his face. 
    
    "What's become of you?" repeated Adolph.
    
    He could feel a lightness, a dizziness about himself. It was an odd feeling,
    but comforting. 
    
    "I've been elevated."
    
    "To what?"
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun clawed his way from the pit to the gallery of cells above. The
    core of Hell was dark and deserted and all he could smell was death.
    He'd hoped he would never have to return to this place. It was too removed
    from the earth for his reformed Gangrel tastes. 
    
    He had no idea where Tom was, but he sensed he was alive. That was all.
    Perhaps asleep or unconscious.  He had to find him fast. Tom Grissom
    was a magnet for disaster even on his good days. 
    
    He edged his way down the halls, keeping a sharp eye out for anything
    living or undead. The levels of security became higher the deeper he
    went, even though the prison had been thrown open, and some of the holding
    cells were intact. Things too terrible even for Wyrm or D'Hoffryn to
    deal with. 
    
    He paused at one door when the label caught his attention. Spiritus Sanctii,
    Dachau. 
    
    Dear god, they had a Spiritus confined?
    
    The door was frozen. Wisps of vapor drifted off the metal door and wall.
    He looked down the hall. They had another. Not Chelmno. Spiritus Sanctii,
    Bergen-Belzen. Calhoun felt a tightness in his throat and chest. Had
    he been human still, he would have wanted to cry. 
    
    ***
    
    Not surprisingly, Ray and Joe hit it off immediately.
    
    The punk DJ needed no introductions as the two newcomers entered the
    studio. He yelled to the listeners he had company and put on 'Bohemian
    Rhapsody' so they could talk for a few minutes undisturbed. 
    
    "What can you tell us about this place?" wondered Fraser, leaning against
    the table. 
    
    "Depends on what you want to know. Wyrmville I call it. He's made a little
    bit of wyrm-eaten heaven for the people that have turned to him and used
    his name in vain. Dead or alive, say the words, and if he finds you stimulating
    enough to survive to the next coming, whammo, here you are. You two actually
    drove all the way from Chicago? Are you nuts?" 
    
    Surprisingly, it was Fraser who answered. "I believe that may be the
    case, actually." 
    
    Joe laughed and Ray felt a sudden pang of loneliness for his absent friends.
    
    "They're in Chicago," Joe said abruptly, sobering. "In Hell. And D'Hoffryn
    is beating down the front door. Jimmy's about to get himself a nasty
    surprise. And the Seer..." He chuckled. "Well. Let's just say, Wyrm has
    plans for him. Always has." 
    
    ***
    
    /Stench of death.../ The Spiritus hissed, cold mist spraying out from
    underneath the cell door. /You smell of us...You made one of our kind.../
    
    "Chelmno...I'm sorry." Calhoun touched the cell sadly. He had to get
    out of here. There was no telling what he'd do if he stayed. 
    
    He only made it a few feet down the hall before he whirled. Hurrying
    back, he smashed the locks off both doors, yanking them open before he
    turned and ran. 
    
    ***
    
    Tom stood on shaking legs, moved towards the cell door then looked back
    at Adolph. He hadn't felt this calm, this serene, in years. He felt like
    he was floating on air. "What?" 
    
    "Into what? What have you been elevated to?" Adolph's tone was curious.
    He'd never seen an elevation. It had been...odd. 
    
    Tom thought for a moment. "A higher."
    
    "Yes." Adolph rolled his eyes, fluttering to his daddy's side. "But as
    what?" 
    
    "What do you mean?"
    
    "What did they give you?"
    
    It was the Hienic who answered. "You have the power to harness, and the
    power to reverse." He paused. "You'll find your human side almost completely
    gone. You're still...you, but you'll find yourself leaning more towards
    the Moloch side of life now..." 
    
    ***
    
    D'Hoffryn watched the sleeping babies, feeling as menacing as he looked.
    Zuko watched him in horror. He hadn't realized what the Higher had been
    planning. Had wished he'd seen it coming. 
    
    Was it too late to switch sides? Had he ever really chosen?
    
    "So...we pick on little kids now, too?" he asked, not caring what reaction
    he generated. 
    
    D'Hoffryn ignored his comment. "I'm moving my headquarters, Frank. This
    building is too small." 
    
    "Sounds good. Is there a reason you kidnapped these kids?"
    
    "I didn't kidnap them, Frank. I'm keeping them safe from Wyrm."
    
    "Safe? Then why do I smell blood?"
    
    ***
    
    "Stella!"
    
    Vecchio fell to his knees beside his wife. She lay on the bed in the
    guest room, Maria and Ma hovering nearby. 
    
    "What happened?"
    
    "Ray. They took Ray and Sophia," she whispered. "They have our baby."
    
    "Who?" he pressed, holding her hand.
    
    "D'Hoffryn."
    
    ***
    
    "Don't do anything too stupid, Ray," said a voice as he went to open
    the door to the Riviera. He looked up to see Frank Zuko leaning against
    the neighbor's fence. 
    
    "Use your head. D'Hoffryn would kill you in a second."
    
    "He's got my kid. And Calhoun's."
    
    "They're okay. I saw them. I came right here to keep you from getting
    yourself killed. We need a plan and we need to get hold of Prince Kowalski.
    He's the focal point of this whole mess." 
    
    "They took off. We don't know where they went."
    
    "Grissom might know." Zuko said, bluntly. He moved towards Vecchio slowly.
    
    Vecchio rolled his eyes, sighing. "Grissom's gone. In the book."
    
    "No."
    
    Shock and surprise must've shown on every inch of his face. "Excuse me?"
    
    "He's not. He's in Hell. I heard D'Hoffren talking to someone about it.
    He was really pissed. Broke a phone." 
    
    Vecchio stepped towards Zuko. "Hell hell or Hell prison?"
    
    "Prison."
    
    "How'd he get in there? Wyrm? D'Hoffryn?"
    
    "All I know is he's there. And his presence there has upset some sort
    of balance in D'Hoffryn's plan." 
    
    ***
    
    He left the cell and went to look for anything or anyone that could give
    him more details as to what was going on.  He was getting hungry, too,
    though he hoped the menu wasn't as limited as his first time here...
    
    Tom shivered as a sort of chill filled the hallway. He looked up and
    at the corner of his vision he saw the ghostly figure of a Spiritus Sanctii
    floating right towards him. He opened his mouth to shout, knowing from
    Fraser's description what these tragic apparitions could do, but instead
    of freezing him and stealing his soul, it just...surrounded him. 
    
    It was like standing outside wet in the most biting cold wind imaginable.
    Tom was shivering but it was as much from fear as cold. There was no
    defense against a Spiritus. If it wanted him dead, he was dead. He could
    feel it's agony in his psyche. Thousands upon thousands of slaughtered
    souls, crying out in silent grief over their heartless fate. Abandoned
    by God, for what loving god would allow the Holocaust? Screams and moans
    of the dying filled his mind. The hopeless. The helpless. 
    
    Dachau. The name stood out in his mind. A simple name.  A simple town.
    The horror of it. 
    
    Thousands of voices spoke as one. "You are not the one."
    
    "Who are you looking for?" he asked, still not able to see it directly.
    
    "The one who will free us. The one who can. The Prince of Fire, despised
    by the Sun." 
    
    Ray. He fought the elation in the Spiritus as it sensed his recognition
    of the one it wanted. 
    
    "He's north. What do you want from him?"
    
    "We can feel the heat of his body even from here. He can destroy this
    form and free us. Only he." 
    
    "He doesn't know this, but I know he would help you if he could.  He's
    in Canada. In Fortitude Pass." 
    
    "So we will go, and with us our brethren. We leave you the father of
    Chelmno and we leave you our legacy, Seer and Saint, as thanks. Use it
    well." 
    
    The Spiritus swept past him, through him, it seemed, so cold was he,
    but he wasn't frozen. Another followed, and Tom was so cold he fell to
    the frozen floor. 
    
    He was left alive.
    
    And powerful.
    
    He looked up at the sound of footsteps coming towards him down the hall.
    The person skidded to a halt just at the corner. 
    
    "Tom!" James?? He saw the vampire running towards him.
    
    A few feet away, James paused to look him over and make sure he was truly
    well. 
    
    "You saw them?"
    
    "Yes. The one from Dachau spoke to me. I sent them to Ray. He can free
    them." 
    
    "Are you nuts?" asked the Sabbat, his smile giving the lie to his criticism.
    
    "Only for you."
    
    He grinned. James, his look a bit haunted, reached towards him with open
    arms. Tom grabbed him in a hug. 
    
    And screamed as the vampire froze beneath his fingers.
    
    ***
    
    Ray froze, looking up. "Oh God..." Joe looked at a ticker tape, and turned
    on the mike. "This one goes out to Jimmy, who's just become one with
    the frozen tundra. Here's 'On Frozen Fields' going out to our very own
    ice man.  I'd say he cometh, but he's a vampire, folks."
    
    ***
    
    Caine was reading the Tarot cards, never more appreciative of grass and
    flowers and sunshine as he was now. 
    
    The Soldier. Calhoun's picture showed him all in white, on a white field.
    Winter camouflage. 
    
    Water. Snow and ice.
    
    The Prince. Raymond dressed as a fire fighter. Caine considered. Fraser
    probably would like this picture. A lot. 
    
    Fire. It had turned from a gun to a mushroom cloud.
    
    Sanctuary. The outstretched hands. They looked covered by frost.
    
    He turned over the next three cards.
    
    Spiritus Sanctii. A death camp.
    
    The Slayer Born and Bred. Shadowed by flames.
    
    The Seer. Managing to look terrified and serene all at once.
    
    But wait...the card had changed. Retitled. The Higher...
    
    He gasped, looking up at Turnbull. "Renfield..." He handed the cards
    to the Seeker, and frowned. "Something's happened, hasn't it?" 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser walked into the city, watching the girl play with Dief. Joe had
    said she was Tom and Jamey's daughter. Or something. He wasn't sure he
    believed that. Wasn't sure he could believe that. Still...she looked
    like Tom. Like Marianne. Strangest of all, she seemed absolutely unafraid
    of any of the traumatic events in her short life. Even now, with her
    fathers missing and Jamey reported frozen, Nikko Florence Calhoun laughed
    in the sunshine. 
    
    It was very confusing.
    
    He sighed, feeling the heaviness in his heart and mind at having abandoned
    everyone and everything they had known without a moment's thought. 
    
    He felt Ray's arms go around him from behind and the detective held him
    in a tight embrace, resting his chin on Fraser's shoulder. "It'll be
    ok," Ray whispered, smiling. He knew what was going on in his lover's
    head right now. "They can take care of themselves." 
    
    "I know. I'm just trying to understand what's going on."
    
    Ray nuzzled closer, very desirous to run his tongue along the edge of
    Fraser's oh-so-tempting ear and listen to the Mountie moan, but he resisted.
    Instead he answered, "Two uber-demons are hagglin' over the world and
    we're the trump cards, Benton buddy. We're what'll turn the tides for
    either one." 
    
    Fraser gripped Ray's arms. He was so warm. The Mountie leaned back against
    his lover, enjoying the feel of those arms and those lips brushing against
    his skin. Still, the nagging thought remained: What would become of the
    world? 
    
    ***
    
    "I'm going with you," Xander said, bluntly. He was carrying a sack of
    stakes. "You can't go in alone." 
    
    "But I'd do better with you?" Vecchio sneered. "Right. Not likely." 
    
    "I worked with the Sunnydale Slayer for four years. With Turnbull for
    one. And..." Xander sighed, biting his lower lip. "And I was a Slayer..."
    
    Vecchio fixed him with a steady gaze that made the boy squirm.
    
    "Sorta Slayer," he corrected. "Kinda."
    
    ***
    
    Tom sat on the floor in the depths of Hell and wept in grief.
    
    James.
    
    Arms outstretched, lips parted, one foot poised up on the toe as he reached
    for Tom. He couldn't look into the frosted, open eyes, the expression
    on his face: joy, welcome, a painful secret lurking beneath the surface.
    
    He'd been too excited to remember the words of the Spiritus Sanctii.
    He had its power now and he had unleashed that power on the one being
    he loved above all else. 
    
    Stupid. He should've realized....
    
    Could he be saved? Was he...gone? Dead for good?
    
    Tom hugged his knees close. What good was all this? What good was anything
    in the world if he couldn't wake up to that cranky, thoughtful, mischievous,
    loving bastard in black leather every morning? 
    
    No good at all.
    
    ***
    
    "...was 'Cold as Ice.' I don't know who did it and I'm too lazy to sit
    up and look at the CD, but here's 'California Dreaming' for the man with
    the Riv." 
    
    ***
    
    "Ok. I'll bite," Vecchio shot a glare at Xander as he drove the car and
    hummed along with the radio. He couldn't remember the name of the station,
    but it occurred to him it might be important. "How can you be a sort
    of Slayer?" 
    
    Xander let out a breath. "Oh...um. When Buffy...when she died, Giles
    wasn't sure who had been called.." 
    
    "Giles?"
    
    "Her watcher. Anyway, he didn't know if the new Slayer would come to
    Sunnydale, or what, and we're practically infested with demons. So, he..."
    Xander shook his head. "He made me Slayer, and I went nuts 'cause I couldn't
    take it." 
    
    "Oh. Great."
    
    ***
    
    He looked up when a pair of leather gloves hit him in the chest. "Wha-"
    
    Adolph stared at him from a few feet away. "The primals made them for
    you.. Spellcast gloves. So you can touch things without freezing them."
    He looked at the frozen vampire. "He'll recover...I'm sure Prince Kowalski
    can fix it..." 
    
    Tom looked back at his knees, edge close to screaming. He felt Adolph
    land next to him and claws held his shoulders. 
    
    "Get up."
    
    "Leave me alone, Adolph."
    
    "Get. Up."
    
    "What do you want from me?" demanded Tom. "Why do you suddenly give a
    damn about me?" 
    
    "Wyrm wants me dead. I'm a liability to him. Didn't he make that pact
    with you? My own sister kills me and she'll win a soul?" 
    
    "But what do /you/ want?"
    
    The tiny demon squirmed a bit at Tom's insistent tone. He looked down,
    away, anywhere but at his father. The selfishness of his own desire was
    almost more than he could bear now that he had learned to care. 
    
    "Adolph?"
    
    "I don't want to die."
    
    He stared at his son for a long moment, remembering that, like Nikko,
    Adolph had been made to grow too rapidly. He never had a childhood. Or
    a chance. 
    
    Maybe he could give him one.
    
    Not everything had to come true. He didn't /have/ to keep his promise.
    God, what had he been thinking? Sacrificing one child for another. 
    
    No. He was through working Wyrm's agenda, not when it came to his family.
    
    He put on the gloves, casting one last look at James. He wanted to touch
    the vampire's face, but was afraid. Instead, he turned to Adolph. "Come
    on." 
    
    ***
    
    Ray entered the radio station. "Can we call outside?"
    
    "Huh?" Joe pulled the headphones off his ears, and looked up.
    
    "Can we call outside?"
    
    "I think so. Give it a shot..."
    
    ***
    
    "They did WHAT?"
    
    Sinclair cringed at the echoing bellow from the main office. The new
    offices were not as comfortable as Warfield's headquarters, but at least
    the stuffy and disapproving vampires had been left behind. Now they were
    surrounded by primals of all sorts, loyal and strong demons. 
    
    And the babies. The two babies captured from the Vecchio house. Sinclair
    could not understand the silence coming from Vecchio. They had all expected
    the Italian to come kick the door down.  Instead, nothing. It was highly
    suspicious and it was driving D'Hoffryn insane not knowing. 
    
    "Kill them! Kill them all! I don't care! I want them all destroyed, especially
    the Seer and that disgusting spawn of his! Kill them!" 
    
    He looked into the office. D'Hoffryn was panting heavily, still gripping
    the phone he'd just slammed down. He was furious and Sinclair sufficed
    as an audience. 
    
    "Grissom is here! They all survived to serve Wyrm and he just turned
    Higher! Now the Primals in Hell are following him like he's some rebel
    leader! Damnit, if I had know this stupid little planet was going to
    be so difficult I would never have used this form!" 
    
    Sinclair winced. D'Hoffryn was a hard task master and very demanding.
    Still, Sinclair had faith and hoped that faith would be enough to help
    him survive whether the Primal Higher saw victory or defeat. 
    
    D'Hoffryn snarled. "I'm going to Hell myself. I'll be back."
    
    "Is that wise, sir?" Sinclair suddenly burst out. "If Grissom is higher,
    isn't it feasible he's collecting power?" 
    
    "I'll collect his."
    
    ***
    
    "Wow. You'd think there'd be more guards," Xander looked at Vecchio.
    "Y'know. I kinda took high security to be literal." 
    
    "That'll teach you," Vecchio drove through the half opened gates and
    winced as he heard the paint scratch. 
    
    "Think they're dead?"
    
    Vecchio shot Xander a glare. "Positive thinking. Ever hear of it?" He
    sighed. "Wanna tell me what happened to Faith? And who the girl living
    in my basement is?" 
    
    "Not really."
    
    "Tough. Talk."
    
    "Later. Maybe."
    
    ***
    
    Fraser approached the chapel cautiously. There was no door. The only
    entrance was the shattered window and after considerable contemplation,
    the Mountie hoisted himself up and entered the tiny gothic structure.
    The stained glass was familiar. He even saw the figure of himself that
    had appeared on the Tarot cards. How had Turnbull known? 
    
    /Because I invaded his dreams./
    
    "Wyrm..."
    
    Wyrm was nowhere to be seen, but the voice seemed to be emanating from
    a statue in the center of the room. Wyrm's representation, he assumed.
    He approached it cautiously. 
    
    ***
    
    Irene Vecchio sat on the sofa, her feet tucked beneath her as she curled
    herself into a tight, lonely ball. She wanted her child, she wanted her
    husband. She wanted her world back. None of her wishes were likely to
    be granted, so instead she wished for company as she kept her lonely
    vigil.  Stella was sleeping. The fight against the demons that had kidnapped
    Ray Jr. and Sophia had drained her completely and she needed the rest.
    Irene sighed. Life had been so wonderful since the wedding... 
    
    Frannie appeared carrying two mugs of tea. "Lonely?"
    
    "Yes," she replied.
    
    "Me, too. Harding's at the precinct trying to keep the panic down. This
    is so like something from the Twilight Zone." 
    
    "I hated that show," said Irene, taking the tea.
    
    "Me, too. Too scary. Almost truths."
    
    Both women jumped when the phone rang. Frannie hesitated, then picked
    it up. 
    
    "Hello?"
    
    "Frannie?" said an excited and happy voice.
    
    "Ray?" she breathed.
    
    ***
    
    "...and to all of Chicago from me, Joe D, just living up to my name,
    folks, here's 'Invisible Sun' by the Police." 
    
    ***
    
    D'Hoffryn entered the prison unchallenged and greeted by Mort alone.
    
    "Where are they?"
    
    The old reanimator, who for so many years had spent his spare time experimenting
    unhindered here in the prison, looked nervously at the demon. 
    
    "I don't know, my lord. I can't find them on any of the cameras. Two
    things, though. The two Spiritus Sanctii have escaped." 
    
    D'Hoffryn frowned. That was disturbing. They couldn't have done it alone.
    
    "What else?"
    
    "If you'll step to my office, I have something to show you that the cameras
    DID pick up." 
    
    "The Sabbat," smirked D'Hoffryn minutes later.
    
    "He's frozen. It must have been the Spiritus."
    
    "And he deliberately walked into it, I'm sure, given his past."
    
    "Sir?" wondered Mort.
    
    The demon shook his head. "He made a Spiritus Sanctii himself. All in
    one night. In Chelmno." 
    
    The old man stared speechlessly. D'Hoffryn smiled.
    
    ***
    
    Xander was the first to find the frozen body.
    
    "Someone's in there!" he whispered through clenched teeth. Vecchio looked
    cautiously. The figure was familiar, unmoving, and the hall was ungodly
    cold. 
    
    "Jamey?" he whispered loudly. "Jamey! Calhoun!"
    
    Nothing. Finally he edged forward, alert for whatever had managed to
    stop the Sabbat, quite literally, in his tracks. He stared when he realized
    what had been done to the vampire. Calhoun looked about to speak, every
    strand of hair glinting with frost. 
    
    "Whoa!" exclaimed Xander, awed. "He's doing the Han Solo without the
    carbonite!" He touched Calhoun's jacket. A bit of the black leather crumbled
    off in icy dust. "Uh oh..." 
    
    Vecchio slapped his hand away. "That's a Versace! Hands off!" Then he
    looked Calhoun up and down. "This isn't good." 
    
    "What can freeze-dry a vampire?" asked Xander, trying to keep his voice
    even. He was very nearly successful. 
    
    "They've got a Spiritus Sanctii here. Maybe it got out."
    
    Xander looked around in a panic, not sure what a Spiritus Sanctii was
    and not too keen on finding out. "Maybe they keep it here!" 
    
    Impatient now, Vecchio cast him a look. "In the hall?"
    
    "Oh."
    
    "Come on. Let's go find Grissom and see if we can't defrost the Good
    Humor Man here." 
    
    ***
    
    "Him." Adolph pointed at the imprisoned Swiss Fish, and Tom nodded. "Just...concentrate
    and all will be well." 
    
    Tom nodded again, moving to stand in front of the fish person. "Adolph?"
    
    "Yes, Daddy?"
    
    "What happens when Wyrm finds out we've betrayed him as well?"
    
    The bestial face scrunched up as the demon considered. "He'll destroy
    us." 
    
    Tom nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that.
    
    He reached out his hands, letting the fish man bite into him, and waited.
    
    ***
    
    Nikko stepped in front of her brother. "Adam? Will you do a reading for
    me?" 
    
    He looked up at her, at once little envious that she had matured so swiftly
    and relieved that he was being given a second childhood. She was very
    sweet, kind and gentle like Tom and how Marianne must have been, but
    with James' drive. 
    
    He spread the Tarot cards out, indulging her.
    
    The first card he turned over was Death. He continued, telling himself
    this was just a whim, nothing serious. 
    
    The second card was identical to the first.
    
    And the third. Alarmed, the demon child spread the cards out.
    
    All the cards were identical. Death, with a picture of his brother Adolph
    screaming. 
    
    "SEEKER!"
    
    ***
    
    Joe had grown bored of eavesdropping on half of Ray's conversation with
    some chick named Frannie and had decided it was time to torture the recently
    arrived Fraser Sr. with some disco when the decanter, the werewolf, Cat
    Woman and a gray-skinned Moloch/Enthos yard ape came into the studio
    at a dead run and almost tackled Kowalski. Joe and Fraser watched with
    interest as they swarmed around the vampire, all of them talking at once.
    
    No disco  Not now. This called for something a bit stronger. Time for
    the concert version of 'Psycho Killer.' 
    
    ***
    
    "The Seer has betrayed me." Wyrm hissed at Fraser. The Slayer circled
    the statue on the altar, not entirely sure why he had come here in the
    first place. Had he been called? "I gave him power, and he betrayed me.
    My son has betrayed me. I gave him life, and he turned his back on me."
    
    "How have they betrayed you?"
    
    Wyrm snorted. "The Seer gathers power. He plans to protect his son from
    me. He'll fail." 
    
    ***
    
    "This one goes out to the little Nazi Rock Troll: 'Backstabbers.'" 
    
    ***
    
    He'd gathered poison blood, freeze touch and something he wasn't quite
    sure about from a Serpentine. Adolph had insisted it was important. Now
    he was ready to go. 
    
    He wasn't sure what he needed to do. He just knew he needed to stop both
    Wyrm and D'Hoffren. The primals would help, he knew they would. 
    
    Suddenly Adolph's grip tightened in his. "Daddy...?"
    
    "What? What's wrong?"
    
    "Father..." There was fear in his voice.
    
    ***
    
    Frannie looked at Irene as the connection was suddenly cut off. The ground
    rumbled, and she fell painfully to her knees. "Oh God...what's happening?"
    
    "I don't know..."
    
    They heard Maria scream and shouts from her children. Frannie hurried
    to the door. "Get outside! All of you! Come on, Irene! We're getting
    out of here! Tony, get Ma!" 
    
    ***
    
    Alarmed voices rose all around him as Ray lost the connection to Frannie.
    They hadn't gotten much further than hello. Damn. At least everyone was
    okay and Vecchio was trying to track down Tom. Good. Okay. They'd be
    alright so long as D'Hoffryn didn't try to get cute. 
    
    /Quiet!/
    
    Joe glared and Ray jumped, but no one else heard Bob Fraser's shout.
    
    "Preachin' to the choir, pops," muttered Joe.
    
    Finally Ray got them all to pipe down and he looked to his father first.
    
    "Aja, what's up?"
    
    "Your uncle. Adolph. Wyrm is going to kill him!"
    
    Ray brooded. And this was bad...how?
    
    "Prince Kowalski," said Turnbull as Ray hesitated, "he's been instrumental
    in our fight these past few days. He guided me and allowed Jamey to go
    after Tom when he vanished. We can't abandon him." 
    
    Couldn't they? He guessed not.
    
    "Okay. We - "
    
    He broke off, looking around. "Where's Fraser?"
    
    /Right here, Yank./
    
    "Not you, yer kid."
    
    Joe D smirked and fished out another CD. "Anybody here like Stone Temple
    Pilots? Oh, and just so you know, the Scaled One is right royally pissed
    at the turncoat Tom Cat." 
    
    Turnbull understood. "The chapel! Wyrm is there! He said we could alwaysfind
    him there." 
    
    "Shit! I can't go outside! Canada, you and Turnbull get over there now!
    Stop Fraser from doin' something too stupid!" 
    
    ***
    
    Fraser had had enough. Enough of Wyrm's trickery and D'Hoffren's back
    stabbing cruelty. Perhaps it was time to go his own way for now. Not
    follow either of them. No one had ever said he had to. 
    
    He looked at Wyrm's statue, and was about to tell him this when he felt
    a shift in the atmosphere of the chapel. The slight breeze was gone and
    it was a little darker. As if the window - 
    
    It was no longer shattered.
    
    ***
    
    Vecchio stumbled in the hallway, catching himself on Xander's arm. "What
    the hell was that?" 
    
    "Felt like a quake," Xander's voice trembled. They both stumbled as another
    one hit. "D'Hoffren?" 
    
    "Wyrm. Has to be."
    
    ***
    
    Adolph caught his father before he fell. "Adolph, what's happening?"
    
    "The city...My father..." Adolph sputtered, helplessly.
    
    And Tom understood. Wyrm was destroying his terrarium. "Oh God..." 
    
    ***
    
    "This little ditty goes out to Chicago. "It's the End of the World" by
    REM." 
    
    ***
    
    Streets crumbled under people as they ran, or tried to drive. The sun
    was suddenly and completely blacked out. 
    
    Chicago was dying. And there was nothing they could do.
    
    Standing in the control center of Hell, D'Hoffryn paused. An instant
    later, the earth began to shake as Chicago's lease on fantasy expired
    and reality came crashing down. The walls were crumbling and he knew
    exactly how. 
    
    Wyrm had pulled the plug.
    
    Damnit, this was happening too soon. Damn Prince Kowalski for fleeing
    and damn the Slayers in all their forms. He needed time. 
    
    He needed Prince Kowalski. Now. In his hold.
    
    For the first time, D'Hoffryn was having his doubts. He had come before
    he'd been ready, before all the pieces were in place. He hadn't anticipated
    some of their actions, especially his enemy's... 
    
    Damn.
    
    There was only one thing for it.
    
    He had to go to Wyrm to end this. He had to go to the Necropolis that
    Wyrm had secreted in the pages of the Necronomicon Kowalski was already
    there. He had the children. He could use them to force Kowalski's hand.
    And if he had the Mounted Slayer... 
    
    A slow smile touched the Higher's lips. It was not a pleasant sight.
    Mort shuddered, chilled to his weary old bones as the quake shook the
    prison. 
    
    


End file.
